


Back and Forth

by richurro



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Clubhouse, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, IDK WHAT TO PUT, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Reddie, Tickling, Underage Smoking, could be read as canon?, i guess, inspired by the hammock scene, its just cute bickering, they cute, theyre like thirteen, ticklish Richie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 09:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richurro/pseuds/richurro
Summary: Eddie’s ungrounded and Richie is smoking a cigarette. Cue the “old married couple” banter.





	Back and Forth

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve seen chapter two three times since it came out and i’m still not over that goddamn hammock scene,, i loved the banter between kid reddie sm so this is the result of that. props to finn and jack for being so cute

“You shouldn’t smoke in here, y’know,” is the first thing Eddie says when he climbs down the ladder of the clubhouse. He wipes his hand on his shorts in paranoia afterward although there wasn’t anything there. “It’s a hazard, you could probably die.”

Richie closes the comic book he had been half-reading (half-day dreaming throughout) and sucks on his cigarette, sighing in delight afterwards. He’s happy to see Eddie (hasn’t in days) and he wants to say hi, but instead he says “Oh, gee, I sure hope not, Doc,” happily, with a smug look to accompany the phrase. 

Eddie scrunches his nose and walks over to where Richie lay in the hammock. “I’m serious,” he said. Richie rolled his eyes (fondly) in amusement. “What if you like, start a fire or something? You and Bev should quit before your lungs fucking collapse.”

Richie shakes his head, hair flopping. “What the shit is a little cigarette gonna do, Eds? Burn the Barrens?”

Eddie is quick to say “Don’t call me Eds,” before jumping into “And no, but this place is a dump anyway, don’t make it worse.”

Richie blows a puff of smoke toward Eddie with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face. Eddie falls into a dramatic coughing fit. “All the more reason _ to _ smoke, Eds! You only live once, right?” Richie exclaimed, raising his eyebrows. 

Eddie glares down at him and before Richie could reach over to pinch his flushed cheeks, Eddie plucks the cigarette from between his lips and raises it over his head. “You only _ die _ once, dipshit. And I’m not dying with you.”

“Hey, c’mon! You’re being unreasonable!” Richie shouts, stretching an arm upward in an attempt to take back the stick, his other hand clawing at Eddie’s polo. 

Eddie, with a height advantage for once, slaps his hands away and promptly puts out the cigarette on the nearest wooden beam above them, crushing the burning cherry and dropping the butt onto the ground. “You’re gonna give me a goddamn asthma attack,” he claims afterward, still batting Richie’s hands away. 

“You don’t even _ have _ asthma!” Richie shouts back. “How would you like it if I took _ your _ drugs!” His fingers tug and fumble with the fanny pack on Eddie’s waist, trying to unzip it to take the pill organizer he _ knew _ was in there somewhere. 

“Hey, get off me dickweed!” Eddie shrieks, grabbing fistfuls of Richie’s curls and shoving his head away. His hair is soft, but Eddie doesn’t want to think about it. 

“Ow! Shit, Eds! This is _ so _ not sexy!” Richie cries, tugging harder at the fanny pack and causing Eddie to stumble forward and push at his face harder. 

“Beep beep Richie!” Eddie spits, his palms pressing into Richie’s cheeks as he childishly fought for his freedom. “Get off!”

Energetically, Richie shakes his head and surges forward, head butting Eddie in the stomach and wrapping his arms around his waist just for shits and giggles. “Never, Spaghetti-Man!” He shouts, lips stretched into a grin. 

Something in Eddie’s tummy flip-flops as heat rises into the apples in his cheeks. “You—You little shit! I’m gonna drop you to the floor! Let go of me!” He shouts. 

With one last push, Eddie successfully manages to escape Richie’s grasp and even tip his upper half over the hammock, almost knocking him out of the little cocoon. Eddie bursts into an ugly laughter when Richie lets out fearful shout, gripping tight onto the hammock and struggling to rearrange himself so he wouldn’t topple out. 

“The _ fuck _ are you laughing at! You could’ve killed me! You psychopath!” Richie yells angrily as he runs his fingers through his mussed up hair and fixes his glasses that had been knocked sideways.

Eddie clutches at his stomach as he hiccups, tears building in his eyes. “You—You fucking—should’ve seen your f-face!” he wheezes before coughing roughly. His face burns a brighter red as he gasps for air, hands automatically going to the zipper of his fanny pack. “Fuck, Richie!”

“Holy shit, hold on Eds.” Richie says, eyes blown wide. He quickly lurches forward and smacks Eddie’s hands away, unzipping the pack and rummaging through for the plastic inhaler. He uncaps it and shoves it into Eddie’s mouth before giving it a big squeeze. Eddie’s tongue is greeted with the taste of metal like pocket change. 

“God, my throat,” Eddie says when he manages to catch his breath, rubbing the base of his neck.

Richie, who had been watching quietly and gently rubbing Eddie’s hip as he regained his composure, cracks a smile. “That’s what she said,”

Eddie, flustered, bops Richie on the head rather hard. “Shut up, asshole, I could’ve died or something,” he says, a frown on his lips.

Richie rubs the pulsing bump on his head and raises his eyebrows high, almost comically. “_You _ could’ve died?! You could’ve cracked my skull open earlier! That’s first degree murder, Eddie-Spaghetti!” he exclaims absurdly. 

“I fucking wish!” Eddie retorts. “And don’t call me that!”

Richie tilts his head, smirking. “Then what am I supposed to call you, Eddie, my love?” he asks. 

Red in the face once again, Eddie smacks him upside the head. “Eddie, you idiot! _ Just _ Eddie! I don’t need those stupid names, Rich! Eddie _ is _ a nickname, now move over!” he responds, shoving Richie’s shoulder so he could climb into the hammock. 

Richie, having forgotten his witty comeback, pulls away from where his skin touched Eddie’s, his freckles disappearing under a warm layer of rouge. “Hey, hey, hey, what the dick do you think you’re doing?” he asks, feeling embarrassed as he snapped his eyes away from Eddie’s legs. 

“Don’t be a dickwad! You’ve probably been here for days! My mom hasn’t let me leave her sight since I came home dirty after the fight!” Eddie says, kicking his shoes off and settling into the hammock, opposite of Richie. 

Eddie huffs as he tries to get comfortable, the hammock swinging lightly as he tries about a dozen positions before deciding on had to be the most provocative one. His legs were stretched out and spread, Richie’s legs tucked between them and bent at the knee.

Richie’s heart skips a beat when he gently rests his palm on Eddie’s calf and the latter doesn’t even flinch. He smiles wide in satisfaction as Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Aw, look at you, Eds! Legs open wide just for me!” Richie jokes, enjoying the face Eddie makes. 

“Yeah, just like your sister was for me last night,” Eddie bites back, playfully kicking Richie’s shoulder as he glared. Richie gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. Eddie rolls his eyes and kicks him again. 

Richie places his hand on Eddie’s knee and leans forward into his space. “You wound me! And on behalf of my dearest fake sister—” he cuts himself off and flicks Eddie on the nose. “Ooo! Right on the button!”

“Ow! Richie, you ass!” Eddie whines, rubbing his nose as Richie threw himself back into the hammock, cackling. Eyebrows scrunched in determination, Eddie sits up and jabs his fingers into Richie’s ribs, smirking as Richie goes rigid, eyes wide in fear. 

“Eds no!” He squeals, trying to smack Eddie’s hands away as Eddie wiggles his fingers, tickling him with no mercy. Eddie grins and snatches the fabric of Richie’s shirt, yanking him forward. 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He shouts before sticking his hands into Richie’s armpits. Richie’s eyes began to tear up as his words became more and more incoherent between his breathy giggles. 

“No—No, Eds, please—please stop!” he wheezes, rolling onto his back and nearly tipping the hammock.

Eddie panics at the falter, gripping tight onto Richie by placing him in a headlock and swinging a leg over his torso, his back pressed to Eddie’s chest. “You idiot! You could’ve dropped us!” Eddie hisses before sticking his fingers into Richie’s neck as punishment.

“S-Stop! Eds! I’m gonna—I’m gonna piss! Please, please, stop!” Richie pleads in between his fits of laughter, pawing at the arms around his neck. He twists and turns trying to pry Eddie off, wriggling on top of him. 

Eddie ceases his tickling but squeezes an arm tighter around Richie’s neck. “What’s my name?”

Richie, still dazed from being tickled, lets out a sigh. “Eds,” he drawls tiredly. 

Eddie uses his unoccupied hand to poke at his side, startling him into giggles. “What’s my name?” he repeats louder as Richie begins to tear up again. 

“Eddie!” Richie squeals, trying his best to move away from Eddie’s hand. “Eddie! Your name’s Eddie!”

Smugly, Eddie smiles and releases him. “That’s right, Trashmouth. Beep beep motherfucker,”

Richie breathes out another tired sigh before wiping the stray tears on his face. “You are cruel,” he starts, rolling onto his front to face Eddie properly, abruptly pausing at the tiny distance between their noses. “…Cruel.” he finishes awkwardly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 

Eddie only rolls his eyes, somehow unfazed at their position, even setting his hand on the small of Richie’s back. Richie squeaks inaudibly. “Yeah, well, you deserved it,” Eddie replies before looking down at Richie. 

He freezes. Richie’s eyes are glazed over and _ so _ blue. Eddie swallows as subtly as he can. 

Richie feels his stomach flutter as a mantra of _ Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! _ runs through his head a mile a minute. Quickly, he looks away from Eddie and begins to crawl off of him slowly, not wanting to make too much movement. “Uh, let me just…”

Richie settles back into his previous position, pre-tickle attack and pre-awkward pause. Eddie coughs in agreement, pulling his legs in so Richie could be more comfortable. “Yeah, just—just don’t tip it,”

Richie scoffs. “Yeah, no shit, Eds,”

Eddie crosses his arms with a huff, nudging Richie with his foot. “Shut up…Asshat,”

There’s a quick beat of silence before Richie perks up with “Dipshit,”

“Dickhead,” Eddie continues.

“Bitch,”

“Motherfucker,”

“Only yours,” Richie winks and suddenly, things weren’t so awkward. 

Eddie smiled in spite of himself. “You’re fucking disgusting. Goddamn trashmouth,” he shakes his head in slight disbelief. 

Richie grins at him, bowing his head lightly. “Thank you, I’ll be here all night! Getting off on some good ones,” he says before leaning out of the hammock and snatching the comic book that had fallen to the floor. 

Eddie lets out a sigh, wiggling where he lay, snuggling into the hammock. “How long _ have _ you been here? You’ve gone home at all this week?” he asks slowly, looking up to the ceiling. 

Richie lowers the comic book he was trying to read (it’s no use, his mind can’t think about anything else other than Eddie smushed against him) before answering with a roll of his shoulder. “I’ve been home.” he claims, voice wringing. 

Eddie peers up at him disapprovingly. “Other than to sleep ‘n eat?”

Richie looks back the page he’s skimmed at least six times. “I’ve been here all week,” he admits, adjusting his glasses. 

Eddie huffs. “You’ve seen Big Bill then? Talked?” he asks, praying the answer was yes. 

Richie rolls his eyes and goes back to the comic book as Eddie squints at him with a frown. “Hell no.” Richie answers bluntly, flicking the page. Maybe he could actually focus on this one instead. “…Have any good chucks lately?” he asks back half heartedly. 

Eddie scrunches his eyebrows. “No…” he drifts with slight annoyance. Richie nods absentmindedly. Eddie pouts to himself. “How ‘bout the others? Ben ‘n Beverly? Mikey? Stan?” he asks suddenly, digging his foot into Richie’s torso. 

Richie elbows it away. “Haystack’s got class with Bev, Mike’s busy on the farm, and Stan the Man like to disappear of the face of the Earth sometimes. Oh, and your mom’s a pain so, no, haven’t seen anyone this week,” he answers with a huff. 

Eddie falls silent for a few seconds. Richie flips to the next page. 

“You oughtta talk to Bill, I think,” Eddie finally says. “So that—”

“Fuck Buh-Buh-Bill. I’m not apologizing, Eds.” Richie interrupts without looking up from his comic. Eddie rolls his eyes before sitting up, gently lowering the comic covering Richie’s face. Richie raises an eyebrow skeptically. 

“I’m not telling you to apologize, douchebag. I’m just saying I think you should talk things out. Plus, I’m so goddamn sick of you two fighting, I hate it. It’s fucking with the group. I just wanna hang out with my friends,” he admits softly, voice growing warm as he spoke, eyes kind. 

Richie purses his lips, hoping Eddie couldn’t tell he was blushing. He averts his eyes. 

“Yowza…alright,” Richie starts, not knowing how else to respond without sounding insensitive. 

Eddie leans back, face blank. “Oh, fuck you, Rich.” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

Richie backtracks, kissing his teeth. “No, no, I mean—fuck, I’m sorry,” He rubs a clammy palm down the side of his flushed face. “I just—I didn’t expect you to…y’know…” He flicks his wrist for emphasis, too embarrassed to finish. 

Eddie’s face melts into a hot red far too quickly to comprehend, like a traffic light. “Oh, um…” is the only thing he could manage to stutter. 

A timid silence looms over them and Richie can hear his heart frantically beating against his rib cage because of it. He searches Eddie’s face for any sign of a lie or humor. He doesn’t find anything and it’s getting _ hot _ in this dump. 

“You—You mean that?” Richie speaks at last, pushing his glasses further up his nose. 

Eddie blinks a few times, caught off guard. “Huh? Mean what?”

Richie scoffs a laugh, a tiny part of him growing anxious. “Y’know, what you said,” he presses. 

A flash of recognition crosses Eddie’s features and suddenly he’s shy, looking down into his lap as he shrugs a shoulder. “Well, I mean…Yeah…I just—It’s annoying and I don’t—_ No one _ likes seeing you guys act like fucking Bowers wannabes,” Eddie clarifies, scrunching up his face like there was sour candy in his mouth. “Plus, Big Bill punched you! And—And _ you _ busted his lip! I don’t want you getting hurt again—neither of you,”

Richie barks out a laugh, half out of disbelief and half out of pure fucking joy.

“Aww, Eds loves me!” He croons, lunging forward toward Eddie, rocking the hammock. He pinches his cheeks with both hands. “Cute, cute, _ cute!” _

Eddie tried to smack his hands away, frazzled. “Stop it! I hate that!”

Richie squishes Eddie’s cheeks together, making his lips pucker like a fish. “Nah, you love it,” he says a smile stretching his lips. 

“Rish, pweash shtop,” Eddie demands as best as he could with his face being squeezed like it would be at family reunions with your grandparents. He grabs Richie’s wrist and looks up at him with wide, pleading eyes like a sad puppy. 

Richie pauses. His eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips before looking back up again. Eddie furrows his eyebrows. Richie laughs and loosens his squishing of Eddie’s face, now cradling it in his palms instead. 

“Rich? Wha—”

Before Richie could think it over too much, he leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss right on Eddie’s lips. Eddie goes still with shock. 

It’s over as quick as it started, about ten seconds at most. It’s…nice. 

Richie pulls away, feeling anxious at the lack of reaction. But Eddie’s lips are parted and he’s watching Richie in awe. Richie’s face begins to burn. 

“Okay, bye,” Is all he could think to say as he lifts himself out of the hammock and heads toward the clubhouse ladder, his stomach filled with—fuck butterflies, goddamn _ bees _. 

“Wait, where’re you going?” Eddie calls after him, already crawling out of the hammock himself. 

Richie turns away from the ladder, grinning like a madman. “I’m gonna talk to Big Bill,” he says, giving the ladder a pat. 

Eddie’s eyes shine in delight. Richie’s heart melts. “No way, really?” Eddie asks, smiling just as wide. 

Richie nods. “You bet your fucking fur.”

**Author's Note:**

> i noticed i’ve never posted anything for reddie before? i should start doing that more often haha


End file.
